


Complex Buddies

by threesipsmore



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threesipsmore/pseuds/threesipsmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Shanty Complexes were not somewhere one would be proud to live. Chopper doesn't mind though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Complex Buddies

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the shady student complexes behind my University and Heart no Kakurega.

They call them the Shanty Complexes.

Most just call them the Shanties. They're these little wooden units all bundled up in an enclosed space, pasted together by thin walls and a thin sliver of dusty ground. They were clumped up in groups of ten, pillowed between skyscrapers and grocers and train stations. They were cheap, and often littered the more undesirable sections of the city.

Thus, a poor reputation permeated the Shanties. Thugs and divorced construction workers lived there, and on the off occasion, a poor student.

Just like this one.

"A kid, huh," Sanji sucks on his smoke, "what's his name?"

"Chopper," Nami scoops him some rice, dumping it onto his plate. "He's a Junior at Howard's."

Usopp startles up from his broken radio, gaping. "No way, that’s an elitist school. I pass by them on the way to the junkyard- those gilded gates would be worth a shit ton if they ever scrap them. What would a kid like that be doing here?"

Nami shrugs, plopping some of the gooey mush unto his awaiting plate, the paper drooping heavily under the wet weight. "I dunno, the manager didn't say much about it."

Zoro ducks his head though the doorframe, grumbling a greeting as the complex welcomes him home. Though these complexes were grouped into a stuffy bundle of ten shanties, each equipped with it’s own individual facilities, Nami insisted upon a family meal every night.

"And how is the desk monkey," Sanji blows some smoke his way. Zoro coughs, waving at the air.

"Too tired to deal with your shit, that's how he is."

* * *

 

"When're you gonna tell them that you're not a chef, that you're actually just a dishwasher?"

They're propped up outside his place, the narrow strip of ground before them tawny and bare. To the left it worked out into the street, to the right were the bushes just beyond an outside grill.

Sanji sighs into his smoke. "Not until I become a chef. Besides," he scowls at the other, "I told you that in confidence."

Zoro loosens his tie with a grunt.

"He must be young," Sanji comments quietly, "to be living alone in a place like this, I wonder if he's scared."

Zoro picks at Sanji's smoke, slipping it from the blonde’s mouth to puff on it a little himself. ”Scared of what," he exhales, "we got a junkyard enthusiast whose idea of treasure is finding scraps of copper wiring, a fabricator with a persistent tumor in his arm, a waitress that wants to be an actress, a botanist with gambling problem, an illegal Austrian immigrant, a police academy dropout, a retired fisherman, an office slave, and," he gives Sanji a pointed look, "a smoking dishwasher."

Sanji blinks at him. "Your dishwasher is smoking? You should get that looked at."

Zoro scowls at him.

"I don't even mind that the TV went out," Nami says, her arm propped on her broken window, "this is good too. What episode is this, Robin?"

The botanist shifts into view. "Complex Buddies 587: The Gay Cigarette."

Usopp laughs from his unit, hap hazardous material leaking from under the door gap. "And here I thought it was a rerun."

Sanji heats up, though Zoro minded it none.

"You missed the intro while you were in the shower, Nami," Robin smiles mischievously at Sanji, "secrets were revealed, blasphemy arose."

"Oh? Wait, I wanna know, What happened?" Nami look between Robin and the boys.

Sanji tries on his best smile, though the corners were tense. "Nothing Nami, just, I'm hoping for a promotion soon, that's all."

Her face lights up. "That's great! But what's higher than a chef- oh! Does that mean you're aiming for manager?"

This is just getting worse. Zoro shifts a little.

"Hey Nami, how'd your gig go?"

You can see the one-eighty her mind does behind those big eyes. "It was great! I mean, they said I was too skinny for the role, but, like, the experience was great. They might be doing a kitchenware commercial soon, so they're gonna keep me in mind."

He wanted to cook for her, though she was always against it. Nami deserved a good meal for keeping her dream alive.

"That's great Nami," Franky shouts from his unit, the drone of the hair dryer nearly drowning him out. "Keep at 'em!"

She smiles and Sanji thinks that they can make fun of the people that live in places like these all they want, he wasn't ashamed in the least.

* * *

 

 

Chopper is a short, curly-haired boy with a rich smile.

Sanji hadn't been expecting much, but there is, looking so terribly unsure of himself, a great big suitcase looming behind him.

He stands in front of shanty number six. Nami's at work, or she'd be the one all over this. Sanji snuffs his smoke and wanders outside, toweling off his wet hair.

"Hey, you the new guy?" Kid was more like it, the new _kid._

Chopper jumps, looking for all he was worth like he was about to get mugged. Sanji frowns. "Hey buddy, chill. This is a friendly place. Usopp snuck in through the window yesterday and made sure all your appliances were in good shape- Vivi was a good girl but it's been years since she left."

Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the window sneaking, but Chopper seems to relax a little, muttering a _thank you._

"So," Sanji balances back on his heels, "if you need anything, y'know, just find me. The ladies won't return until after rush hour and the ape will probably stay late again. Usopp might come round, but he likes the midnight dump so," he shrugs. Brook's sense of humor would probably terrify the kid, and lord knows where Franky's job site is now.  He'd gotten Luffy a construction gig somewhere- Sanji had worried about it at first, they all had, but the job kept the boy just tired enough to be tolerable.

"I'm Chopper," the kid offers a polite hand. Yeah, I know, he wants to say, but shakes it instead.

"Sanji. I'm a. . . cook. So, you need help moving in?"

* * *

 

Chopper's got a lot going on in that bag of his, like he'd just gone around his house and picked up the odd ornament here and there. The odd _expensive_ ornament. He seems to notice Sanji's wary hands.

He imagined dropping any one of these would result in a lifetime debt. The Howard's uniform is pressed and wrapped in a protective plastic film, pencils packed neatly in an gilded case.

“It’s complicated," Chopper explains quietly, “I know you’re curious, but it’s complicated. My tuition is paid for, but the house and everything else," he wanders off, Sanji pausing, something heavy and copper in his hands, "they told me the payments were six months overdue, said I'd need to vacate until the bank handled the matter. No one could get ahold of my parents, so I came here- not that the officials know that. As far as they know, I took the train to live with my aunt. Not that she knows that either.”

He looks a bit sheepish.

Sanji comes across a few cellphones in a baggy, eyeing it suspiciously

"I think they were having financial problems," the kid shrugs, as if it just couldn't be helped, "I think they found a cheaper place to live, or maybe they were running away, I dunno. Sometimes these guys in black would scope out the manor, probably looking for them."

"Well," Sanji heaves the copper thing over into the corner, grunting from the weight, "we may not be pretty, but you can count on us. Family meals are eight in the evening sharp, breakfast is a mysterious nutri bar Robin cooks up in her probably not legal lab. Lunch is usually packed, but in your case I imagine you'll prefer the cafeteria food. It's usually PB&J or a toasted tomato sandwich. Nothing fancy." 

Chopper listens dutifully, and Sanji decides that he likes the kid. He was a trooper.

Sanji is right, Zoro does stay late again, too late, and so he forces Nami to go to bed and waits up with the cold plate of noodles, sitting outside the moron's door with a fresh smoke.

"You missed the new kid," he breathes out, Zoro's approaching hulk slumped and weary, "everyone loved him. Usopp nearly shit himself at the copper bust the kid had. Weird shit."

Zoro is quiet, crouching in front of Sanji, the moon high and bright in his eyes as he parts his lips slightly. Sanji knew that expression. It'd been a bad day, and on bad days Sanji behaved himself well enough. So he plucks the smoke from his mouth and tucks it between Zoro's awaiting lips, the man sighing into the taste. Zoro had never been much of a smoker, but on a particularly bad day once he'd stolen Sanji cig right from his hand and huffed on it until the frustrated red in his cheeks had drained.

"He got a sad story," Zoro finally asks.

Sanji shrugs against the wood of his unit. "Suppose so, but he doesn't whine about it much.”

"Sanji?"

Zoro glances over his shoulder, balancing on his haunches as Chopper peeks out his door.

"Yeah, kid?"

Sanji peers around the bulk of Zoro's body, realizing now how close they appeared in form.

"Ah, just, I can't get the shower to work. Sorry."

If Usopp and Franky weren't around then that would usually be a Zoro thing, and he seems to know that, heaving himself up- but Sanji beats him to it, brushing past him. "Get some sleep mosshead, you're taking the kid to school tomorrow on your way to work."

Zoro splutters.

* * *

 

Sanji wonders why no one comes for him. Child services should have been contacted, right? Zoro waits for the kid, tapping his dress shoes against the ground impatiently. "Sorry," the kid squeaks, jumping out, "Junior ties are real, not clipped on. I don't know how-"

Zoro grumbles but crouches down all the same, muttering to the kid about twisting it here and tugging it there. Sanji's lips twitch. Look at him, acting all domestic.

"Have a good day sweety," Sanji teases, cupping his mouth so the man can hear him. Zoro flushes, careful to keep his language clean as Chopper follows after him.

Someone would come to pick that kid up eventually, and Sanji thinks he might miss him when they do.

"Sanji," Robin leans out her window, chewing on that mysterious bar of hers, "you're not working today?"

"Ah," the blonde sighs, "got the late shift. Won't be back until eleven. Barto quit and they're scrambling to cover him."

Robin hums, tapping the window as she disappeared back into her unit. "Work hard for that _promotion_ cook, I know you can do it."

* * *

 

When Sanji comes back, fingers soggy and arms scrubbed clean, he finds Zoro teaching Chopper once more how to tie a tie on the faulty swing outside Luffy's unit.

"Kid should be in bed," Sanji grumbles as he passes by.

"Food's in your room," Zoro says without looking, _no look twist it here,_ "on the nightstand."

Sanji whirls on him. "You went in my room?"

Zoro waves a semi-apologetic hand, tugging on the tie, "I told you you'd have trouble if you kept leaving it unlocked."

Sanji grumbles about privacy, though he notices the heated glass pan Zoro had insulated the plate in, the meatloaf still warm. He's about to go thank the idiot but the stretch is bare now, Chopper's lights out and Zoro's door closed.

He finds himself alone in his unit, the room a blue hue. Zoro had been in here, had touched his things. His blanket had a wrinkled spot in it, as if someone had sat there, the pillow indented. He must've been tired, daring to take a rest here.

"Damn goldilocks," Sanji murmurs, easing himself into that very spot. Zoro had been laying here. He lets himself fall onto the pillow, nuzzling into the soft fabric. It was still warm and pressed with cologne.

He forces himself to eat though his bones are heavy, and come morning he finds himself not as lethargic as he usually was. Zoro makes Chopper tie his own tie, instructing him with his hands on his hips.

Entertainment arrives in the form of a blushing Zoro and a beaming Chopper that next evening.

Some kids had thought Zoro was cool, Chopper says at dinner, Robin sneaking him extra servings from her own plate. Some kids had though he was cool, and so Chopper had told them he was his father.

Sanji chokes on the shrimp, hacking into Luffy beside him while thumping his chest.

“Zoro, _a father!?”_

“It is a bit doubtful,” Nami says.

Zoro flushes, stabbing his dinner. “Shaddup.”

Sanji likes to have fun with it, taunting the man whenever he could.

“Daddy’s home early,” Sanji leans against his doorframe. Zoro glares at him, Chopper humming along to his headphones. “And what did daddy buy at the grocer?”

“Complex Buddies,” Usopp’s muffled voice comes from his unit window, “episode 588: The Gay Kink.”

Sanji stares at the building in horror, Zoro cackling from behind him.

“Go on,” Zoro taunts, “what am I? Did you want a treat from daddy, was that it? I think I got something long and hard in here for you-”

Sanji tells him he can go fuck himself, grateful for Chopper’s horrid choice in loud pop music.

* * *

 

 

"How'd we meet," Nami blinks at Chopper, "uh, well, most of us met _here_. Ah, but I guess Robin introduced this place to Brook," Nami squints her eyes suspiciously at the woman then, " _her distant uncle as it were._ But yeah, oh! And Zoro and Sanji, but that was just a coincidence. They met at. . . a restaurant, right?”

"I was his waiter," Sanji confirms, "different place from now, the idiot spilled wine all over the table cloth and floor. A month later he turns up here, and I've been cursed ever since.”

Usopp continues to struggle with the phone, Zoro motioning for him to hand it over. “What is it you want,” he speaks through a mouthful.

Usopp fumbles for a moment. “Oh, uh, the microprocessor, but they really bolt everything up inside there. Takeda is legit with their tech, really advanced stuff.”

Zoro motion for the little pick Usopp had been using, the younger dumbly handing it over as Zoro pushes at some spots. Something pops out and- a cover, Sanji thinks, and he’s handing the phone back.

“Zoro,” Usopp stares, “what the hell? We could’ve been scrap buddies together this whole time.”

Sanji’s a little impressed himself, even if he didn’t understand it. It’s always nice to watch a monkey learn new tricks or, in Zoro’s case, flaunt old tricks.

“Anyway,” Nami smiles, “I thought tomorrow we’d all go out.”

Franky and Luffy cheer, but something sinks in Sanji’s stomach when Nami looks at him. “At the Old Blue. I think I might know a chef that’ll treat us extra special.”

He doesn’t know what’s worse, his lie, or the fact that everyone in the goddamn room knows besides her.

“Ah, but we’re under new management and the ingredients are a real problem lately,” Sanji tries, but Nami waves him off.

“Oh, pish posh,” she says, “I trust you not to poison us.”

She shouldn’t trust him, because he’s a liar.

He picks at his meal quietly, realizing Chopper was just as clueless by that excited expression of his.

He goes in early the next day, the evening rush just starting as he picks through the ingredients. They didn’t look bad, surely the chef could work with these. It wasn’t like the food was terrible- he’d be ashamed to call it his own, sure, but it seems like he has no choice in the matter.

He can see them out there, washing the pots blindly as he craned his head towards the window in the door, Nami dolled up as best as she could, the nine of them seated in the center. Jimbei looks uncomfortable and still he came. 

He watches the chef cull through the ingredients, flinching at every wrong turn. The man knew what he was doing, he just didn’t care enough about it.

He wouldn’t dare touch it- that’s what’d gotten him fired last time, tampering with the meals is what they called it. Still he hovered about nervously.

He pretends to sweep by the door when it’s served, though he’s shooed away by a waiter and he’s left to fret near the sinks instead.

The next time he sees them Luffy is wolfing the last of Robin’s portion down and Nami is staring fixedly at her plate.

He knew the man had peppered it too much, and the untidy splash of sauce on the outer rim of the plate- Sanji would never have allowed such sloppy work.

Still, she flags the waiter and he can tell by the dreadful move of her lips that she’s asking them to send her compliments to the chef.

No.

He glances back at the man, knowing he’ll invite himself out personally once he hears the compliment.

_No._

Zoro, as if sensing him, glances at the window in the kitchen door, an apologetic tilt to his lips. Sanji ducks, mop clutched between his hands.

The chef passes him, and he can hear her through the crack in the door, through everybody else chattering along like the world was okay.

“No no, he must be the other one. Sanji, his name’s Sanji.”

“Sanji? The dish boy?”

He wants to crawl into the sink and turn on the disposal unit.

“My mistake,” she murmurs.

No, he wants to tell her, _my mistake._

He doesn’t go straight home when he clocks out, instead wandering about downtown after a ten minute walk in any direction. He’s got some missed calls, the night air cold as it nipped at his nose. Downtown could be pretty sometimes, he noticed, buildings tall and slicked in black, lights everywhere.

He’d thought so when he’d first moved here too. He’d thought a lot of things when he’d first moved here.

A text this time, then another. Robin first, a picture of the night sky over the Shanties.

And then Zoro, just a question mark. What a gentleman, he glowers. Before he has a chance to tuck it away Zoro sends him another one, brief and to the point.

_I’m coming to get you._

Idiot, he smiles a little, you don’t even know where I am. He waits for it, and then Zoro again, _where r u?_

He laughs despite himself, taking a picture of some buildings and sending it his way. He wanders off, window-shopping, sniffing at the cold.

Zoro must’ve found the place, because he gets another text later, _here?_

Sanji grins, because he’s long since moved from there and so he takes another picture of the landscape.

Zoro’s awfully fast, and the third time around he hears his name, the poor man disheveled and panting from behind him.

“What the hell?”

Sanji tucks his phone away, staring down at the heaving man. “You made me wait. I got restless. You like the tour?”

Zoro pushes himself up with a groan. “Shut up, let’s go home.”

Sanji’s heart twinges a little, and suddenly he doesn’t feel so good. “I’d rather not,” he murmurs. “Can we stay, just a bit longer?”

“No,” Zoro says, “we both got work tomorrow, c’mon.”

He waits for him, watching Sanji carefully as if he expected him to run off again.

Sanji doesn’t feel like playing that game anymore, and when they arrive home he finds all the lights are out.

* * *

 

 

“Sanji,” Nami says before his shift, not looking at him as she mapped out the new garden, “I want you to cook tonight.”

He agrees without hesitation. She’d been cooking because she’d thought that he’d want a break, but now that she knows. . .

Their shifts line up like they used to again, and Sanji catches Zoro and Chopper on their way home. Some of Chopper’s friends look at him rather peculiarly but he doesn’t pay it much mind. While Zoro could imitate a business man, it was obvious what he’d been doing for the past seven hours.

“Ah, I need a parent signature for this day trip we’re going on. . . “

He should probably be listening, but instead he tries to sum up what they have left in Nami’s fridge. He should just do something simple, he wasn’t going to make an ass out of himself by overcompensating.

Pasta, maybe some seafood.

Simple.

He glances over to find Zoro watching him.

He’s got a real job, Sanji thinks, working in a cubicle and punching in numbers. Zoro’s actually doing something with his education. He has a uniformed suit and sometimes he goes out with his coworkers. He has coworkers that share the same interests or disinterests or whatever, not the awful mix at the Old Blue, with students who couldn’t care less up front, and chefs that just needed something to with their hands in the back.

They didn’t care about each other, hell, half of them didn’t even like each other.

“You ever eaten Sanji’s food, Chopper,” Zoro asks suddenly. Of course he hasn’t, Sanji wants to snap, he’d only ever cooked once, and it’d been back when there’d only been five people in the complex: Zoro, Nami, Usopp, himself, and Luffy.

“No,” Chopper says, “but I’m real excited. Nami says it’s the best food ever.”

Sanji stops there on the sidewalk, Zoro not looking at him, and he wants to hit him, because he must think he’s the coolest bastard ever, getting Chopper to say that.

He wants to hit him, and a little part of him wants to just lean all his weight against him because Zoro is sturdy and worth trusting and _always there._

Nami isn’t back yet when they return, and so he gets to work, Robin flipping through a book at the communal table. Every day they all shifted in their complimentary, folded wooden tables and made a large eating place for the group, just enough room around the edges for them to sit.

He works his way around, setting out plates and napkins.

He’s not sure when Nami appears, but he turns around once and flinches at her stare. She’s sitting opposite of Robin, chin to her hand as she studies him. They begin to trickle in, Zoro ducking through the crooked door in a fresh set of clothes.

“Oh,” Usopp sniffs, “this takes me back!”

It’s just pasta long-nose, that’s all. You’ll see, there’s nothing special about it.

He serves it for them once they’ve all stopped shifting about restlessly in their seats, Zoro leaving a space next to him expectantly.

They eat it silently, Sanji slowly, carefully rinsing the empty strainer, leaving the pot to soak. He wasn’t hungry, not in the least bit.

Someone moves.

Nami’s stood up, Zoro and Luffy the only ones to show no interest in her sudden movement.

“Yesterday I failed an audition,” she says, “it was the one they told me I’d be perfect for. I failed another one today, and it’d been one they’d told me I’d be no good at.”

He wants to comfort her. These things happen, but he didn’t want to see her give up, out of all people, not her.

She’s staring at the wall before her, jaw a bit tense, standing perfectly straight.

“I’m happy, though,” she swallows, “that I live in a world that gives me the opportunity. I’m happy that I can rip myself from the preset and not come undone. No matter how many times they tell me no, I’m happy I get the opportunity to be dismissed, because I know nothing in this world is one-hundred percent. Which means, eventually, they’ll be forced to tell me yes, and I’ll have the option, then, to accept or dismiss _them_. ”

Sanji watches her, hands heavy as they hung uselessly beside him.

“I’m,” she pauses, brow furrowed, “happy. I’m happy that I got to eat good food today. I’m happy that I get to be a part of your growth, Sanji, I want to eat everything you make, I want to be that one yes that you need.”

He’s shaking, but maybe he should be worrying more about his wet cheeks and runny nose- _stupid, beautiful girl._

He covers his eyes with his arm and she smiles at the wall, Zoro watching him.

* * *

 

 

Zoro shares a smoke with him, Chopper’s window alight with his TV. They can see the cartoon from here. It’s quiet, and neither say a word.

Franky whispers from his window, “Complex Buddies: The Homosexual Silence.”

* * *

 

 

Chopper seems nervous. He’s shoveling food down like he was trying to bury something, like something bad was about to come out of that mouth of his.

“I have this school event this weekend,” Chopper eventually breathes between bites, “it’s really important. There’s going to be cake stalls and student cafes run by the public high school down the street. Kind of like a way to give money to the poor, I guess. Anyway, if someone from my family doesn’t show it’ll look suspicious, right? Because, because all the parents like to show off and and clear their schedules weeks in advance and- the school, they don’t know about my. . . situation. If they did, they might report me and, and I might be sent away and,” he shoves more food into his mouth, and Sanji can understand why.

He spoons him some more peas.

They’d known for a while that his situation was non-standard, like Brook and his missing papers. For whatever reason, Chopper didn’t want to turn to immediate family, and they never asked why. All that was known was that his parents were gone, his house was being foreclosed, and all he had left was his education.

Sanji knew eventually the legal documents would get in the way. The school would need updated information, or the insurances would, _somebody,_ and an address in an undesirable part of town, in a shanty complex like theirs, was sure to raise brows.

Eventually this was all going to catch up with Chopper, but for now, he’d help him run just a little bit further. 

Nami’s the first to speak. “Alright, so I’m guessing they don’t know what he looks like, right? They’ll just slap a sticker on any man that says he’s your father?”

Chopper seems to nod, though Sanji’s not sure. “Problem is,” Sanji mutters, “is that the kids already have Zoro pegged as your dad. I’m sure Zoro has no idea how to keep it together in a posh setting. You’d have to ask one of the ladies to come with you so he doesn’t make an idiot out of himself, though only Robin is a convincing age. . .”

“I got a gig out of town,” Nami frowns, “and Robin’s my ride.”

The room is quiet in thought.

Chopper thinks hard on it, Nami furrowing her brow. “Okay okay, then how about we send Sanji, he’s got the weekends off, and he works at a nice place, he knows these kinds of people. We’ll just say he’s daddy’s work friend, was looking to enroll his own kid or something.”

Oh no, no no no. He washed their dishes, he knew what kind of wasteful asshats these people would be. Chopper leans across the table suddenly, grasping Sanji’s hands in his own, gaze earnest.

“Please Sanji. You have to go or they'll call my house and then they'll be deferred over to my aunt and then they'll realize I’m not there- and she doesn’t want to keep me, I only gave them her name because I didn’t want to be sent away. But if they call her then it’s all over- _please Sanji_.”

Shit. Fuck shit.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “yeah okay. Fine. I’m daddy’s work friend.”

He digs for a smoke, fumbling. Once he finds one he bites down hard on it, flicking the lighter on with a few hurried brushes of his thumb. “Please tell me it’s casual dress.”

Chopper squints at him. “Sanji, you’re supposed to rich. You can wear whatever the hell you want to wear.”

* * *

 

 

Shit, casual meant designer jeans and bulbous rings. “Zoro,” he whispers, “is that an _ice sculpture?”_

He already felt displaced by the nicer buildings, the academy smack dab in the center of the glassed section of the city. Zoro shifts uncomfortably beside him. He’s looked like a turtle without a shell since they’d left, shoulders boxed in tension.

“Jesus,” Sanji breathes, “look at the public school students, they practically radiate unhappiness.”

Sanji smooths out his shirt, relieved he'd at least played it a little safe with the dress shirt.

“Mr. Tony!”

A woman pops up before them, clipboard in hand. “Hello Chopper,” she smiles down at him, “we finally get to meet your fathers, and I must say, what a pleasure.”

They stiffen in unison, glancing at each other.

“Oh,” she seems to sense the tension, “no worries Mr. and Mr. Tony, this school is happy to celebrate its diverse students. Cathy over there, she has two mommies, and Brendan’s father is a paraplegic, and-"

“Ah,” Sanji offers a polite smile, “well, that’s nice, thank you for taking care of our, our s-son.”

She paints that big smile on her face once more, reaching for something before she tuts, frowning. “I’m afraid to say I’ve run out of badges, please, explore the area, I’ll be right back.”

The kids are loud, parents everywhere, appetizers handled on platters held high.

“Chopper,” Sanji says sweetly, crouching down close to him, “why didn't you tell us you had two dads?”

“I didn't think it was important,” the boy looks away pointedly. “I didn’t imagine you to be the kind of people that cared about having two dads.”

Ouch.

“Well, yeah, kid, actually it’s great that you think that way but, uh, when you have two other dudes pretending to be your parents it’s kinda, y’know, a good tip to share.”

Chopper does look at him then, apologetic. “I hadn’t planned this,” he says, “just, you came along and then they assumed. I’m sorry, Sanji.”

Well, what was Sanji gonna do, get mad?

He sighs instead, mussing up the boy’s hair.

“I can’t go to my family,” Chopper says quietly, “because they disowned dad. They don’t like men with other men, so I know, if I go to my aunt’s, she’ll have them send me away.”

Sanji’s hand is caught in his hair, lips parted just slightly. Zoro shares a look with him.

“Is that so,” he says slowly, “well, then let’s do our best, all three of us.”

He wants to say something else, but a familiar name on unfamiliar lips breaks him away.

"Zoro? _Zoro!_ ”

He's never seen the mosshead's expression fall so fast. "Oh _shit."_

"Zoro," Sanji says warily, pushing himself up, ”why does that man know your name?"

And then an idea dawns on him and his eyes widen in horror as he whispers urgently. "Oh my god, did you work for him at some point? Is he going to oust us? Zoro shut him up, he's going to give us away!"

"No," Zoro breathes, "it's much worse."

"Zoro," the man smiles happily, jogging their way, “bro, it's been so long! Thought you skipped town or something. You ever get hitched with that girl? Was kinda bummed when I didn't get an invite."

This is weird, too weird.

"No, Johnny, I didn't get hitched. She didn't work out."

Johnny smiles pleasantly enough. ”Ah, man, sorry about that. But your parents got connections right, I'm sure you'll get someone new- uh, hey, why're you here though, you a donor?”

He looks to Sanji and the kid but he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots. Probably doesn’t need to, with clothes like that. The guy was undeniably someone important, even in his day clothes.

That woman from before shows up suddenly, smiling all the while. "I have your badges here, Mr. and Mr. Tony.”

Zoro's face pinches in that weary way it does when he's just about had enough. Sanji's cautious about answering her. Zoro knows this guy, this guy with the thick gold necklace and too many rings.

"Yeah," Zoro acknowledges her, "yeah, thank you.”

They're a little gaudy for such a nice place, Sanji easing the sticker onto his shirt quietly, attention curiously piqued.

"Woah," Johnny's brow raises above his glasses, "I, uh, I mean, good for you Zoro, really. That's great. Kinda surprised though, I thought your parents were, uh, kinda _stiff_ about that sort of stuff, if you know what I mean."

"They are Johnny," Zoro gives the man an even look, and Johnny seems to get the hint.

Zoro's parents?

"Uh, look, how about I introduce you to my kid, wife's out of town but I'm sure your boy knows him, he's right over there in line for the merry-go-round."

Chopper follows suit, cooing at the large empty ship just before the horse-bird monstrosity, and Johnny's quick to joke about it. "Never expected you take another man's name though. If anything, I thought you'd be on to-"

Zoro swats the back of his head, growling about idiots and never growing up.

The familiarity startled Sanji. Johnny is called away and he apologizes, promising to return.

"Zoro," Sanji says seriously, once they’ve wandered just close enough to see Chopper, but just far enough to evade any prying ears, “Zoro what's going on."

The man puffs out his cheeks, hands stuffed in his pockets. He looks rather reluctant, but luckily for Sanji, the man knows how persistent he can be. "You remember the first time we met?"

Sanji doesn't want to take a trip down memory lane, he wants to know what the hell is up with Zoro.

"Yeah," he gives in, watching as Chopper waved before disappearing once more.

"The girl I was with, she was the girl Johnny mentioned. Was the kind that didn't mind dressing down and eating at food stalls or shitty restaurants with moody waiters. She volunteered her time on the weekends and donated to charities. Was pretty good company, witty.” He shrugs. “I probably would've married her."

Sanji doesn't say anything, but as time grew, so did the awful taste in his mouth.

"But then you came out."

"Yeah," Sanji says, "and you spilled the wine. So what?"

Zoro's quiet now, and the ride slows down. "Zoro," Sanji whispers, annoyed, "so _what?_ "

And then Zoro just gives him this look, and Sanji's chest tightens up six different ways. "Zoro," he says as Chopper hops off, "Zoro what are you saying? Why didn't you marry that girl, and how does Johnny know you?"

Chopper greets a few of his friends, Johnny’s dapper kid amongst them. "My mother inherited Takeda Corps from my grandfather."

Sanji can't even force a smile when Chopper stumbles near, laughing so much he probably doesn’t even notice.

Takeda Corps.

Zoro was rich. Zoro was unbelievably rich but he was living in a Shanty Complex with nine other people. This was the same Zoro that ate from paper plates and shared a cheap smoke with him. The Zoro that worked in a cubicle at a nowhere job and didn’t get paid for late hours.

Sanji pats Chopper’s head absently, and they’re invited to have drinks with Johnny and a college friend of his. To his disappointment, it’s just small cups of light liquor from one of the stalls, not nearly enough to ease Sanji’s mind.

“You chose to live in a shitty area with nine other people,” Sanji whispers when Johnny challenges another to a dart game.

“Didn’t plan on living with nine other people,” he shrugs, as if it couldn’t be helped, “just wanted to live with you.”

This isn’t real. This was _Zoro._ The same one that’s lived beside him for the past five years now. He can’t possibly be saying-

“Your parents-”

“Would never have approved. They reached out a few times.”

It must be the heat, that's why his head feels so light.

“All because of a stupid waiter working a temp job,” Sanji murmurs.

“I don’t regret it,” Zoro says. Johnny goofs off, scaring the worker as a dart catches her hair. He’s apologizing profusely now, his friends laughing. “I don’t regret it one damn bit. The moment I saw you I knew I was fucked.”

* * *

 

 

“Thank you,” Chopper’s saying, the sun bleeding out over past the complex. “It was really fun, right?”

Sanji says something, probably something agreeable with the way Chopper’s face lights up.

Jimbei welcomes the kid home, ever the peaceful old man. It’s quiet.

“Zoro,” Sanji yanks on his arm, “let’s go. Now.”

He pulls the man into the other’s unit quickly, shoving him onto the bed as he climbs on top, trapping him there. “You’re saying,” he just wants to clarify, “that you’ve liked me all these years, that you gave up your inheritance, your prospects, your fucking comfort just because of a guy you met once in a restaurant?”

Zoro smiles a little. 

Sanji kisses him, pressing him into the bed as his fingers find his hair, digging into his scalp.

“You idiot,” he breathes, “five whole years. And you never said a damn word.”

Zoro’s running his hands along the blonde’s thighs, grin crooked, “Wouldn’t want to scare you away, then I’d just have to chase you again.”

Sanji swears, and Zoro’s got his mouth on his again, licking into it persistently and Sanji has his hands under that shirt, fingers dipping into the ridges of muscle and bone.

He’s so warm and perfect there, a pure-bred heir getting sullied in a shanty by a dish boy. He laughs at the thought, Zoro puzzled as he stops.

“Just, you’re such an idiot,” he laughs, “who the hell falls in love at first sight?”

Sanji does, that’s who. But he won’t tell him that, not yet at least.

Zoro was a desk monkey, a man that had nowhere to go. He lived in a shanty unit next to a junkyard enthusiast and a waitress who just wants to be famous.

Zoro knew what it was like to have servants, to have your shoes polished for you, to have a schedule planned from day one.

Sanji was born on the wrong side of an ugly mountain, where the snow always fell off in great big heaps. He’d graduated cooking school not too early and not too late.

When he was eighteen he’d moved into a Shanty Complex, and they say there’s no way up out of a Shanty. He might be stuck there forever, next to the gambling Botanist and the kid with the runway parents.

He takes Zoro in his mouth, working him into a wrecked mess.

“Heh, take some pity on me,” Zoro manages, “I’ve waited five years, I'm a little pent up.”

Sanji pulls back, grinning.

Usopp grumbles from next door.

“Complex Buddies: _The Gay Orgasm."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: threesipsmore.tumbr.com


End file.
